


The Fool

by SunnyNezuChan



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Character(s), Original Fiction, i don’t know what i’m doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:42:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25749094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyNezuChan/pseuds/SunnyNezuChan
Summary: Who is truly the fool? One would say someone else, never seeing that potentially...they may be the fool.
Kudos: 2





	The Fool

**Author's Note:**

> Already posted this on my Wattpad. This is just me writing randomly.

A heart beats rapidly, the heart of a royal. Pumping quickly in the fashion of a startled rabbit, keeping the fortress held inside from crumbling.   
Don’t let its rhythm trick you, it’s a fortress of cruelty.  
Enter, if you dare.  
One step in, the doors clamp shut with a deafening bang. In the fast pace of thumping, it’s a noise of both familiarity and unknown. It alerts the habitants, shadows, that roam around. Their icy gazes piercing the figure who entered, calculating the stranger. The fool. Each one has a different reaction. Some bare their teeth, poised in a threatening manner, while others have a poor excuse of a smile stretched across their face. It’s anything but friendly. Sharp tendrils reach from their bodies towards the fool, all of them start running.  
The queen, ever watchful of her kingdom, sits upon her thrown. A faint, peculiar feeling pulses through her, and she already knows. Someone has entered her kingdom.   
She puts on a small smile on her mask. A mask full of cracks. Her eyes fill with affection upon spotting the stranger, praises spewing out of her mouth like a faucet being turned on. There’s already a pedestal formed for the fool, towering over her by miles.  
With a flick of her hand, the doors to her home open up, providing safety. The fool runs straight in, ignoring the bars and scratches that bleed deep into the castles walls. The doors close silently before the fuming mob of shadows can reach their claws inside.  
The queen doesn’t let the fool wait long enough to ponder what they’ve ignored, peeking shyly at them. The queens mask gleams, the painted smile widening in pure glee when the fool approaches first. They speak first, any word of kindness being gobbled up by the queen.  
The queen does a curtsy, lifting her dress with ease as she finally decides to speak. “My name is _______.” She says quietly. A slight frown appears beneath her mask. Her name always sounded like a mistake to her, but the fool seems to enjoy learning it. They open their mouth, speaking their own name into existence. She enjoys it so much, she wants to hear more of it. 

The queen offers a home to the fool, a place of lavish luxuries.

The fool takes in the decor, following the queen as she takes them around her home. She seems excited, rambling on and on as she shows them different rooms. From the kitchens to the ballroom, all with a smile beaming on her painted features. The fool wonders if she’s always this talkative, until she suddenly stop speaking.   
The fool looks at her, then the room, trying to figure out what made the chatty royal freeze. They are in the throne room, a beautiful blue chair with gold floral design sitting up upon a set of stairs. Separating the royal from others by the height alone.   
Leading to the throne is a line of pillars, 15 to be exact. It’s strange, being an odd number, making the room feel uneven and unfinished. Each pillar is carved differently from one another.   
One depicts a cruelly smirking she devil as she glares haughtily from her perch above all. Her hands clutch tightly at chains connected to a heart.   
Another shows two women, their backs facing each other. One of the women has their hand up, as if trying to keep the words from reaching someone as she gossips with a sharp smile. The other women seems to be drifting, a look of hurt upon her face as she fades.  
The fool startled as the queen suddenly speaks up. “This is the throne room, obviously. Nothing special here, let me show you t-“ Her words fade as she quickly leads the fool away from the throne room, her cheery skips holding a tight rigidness held by one pretending. The fool thinks to ask until they become distracted by her suddenly holding out a ruby.  
She bombards the fool with gift after gift, thrusting the gifts of sparkling gems and soft clothes at them. All the while, her smile starts to reach her eyes with the fools words of thanks.  
The queen doesn’t know when, but she starts to confuse her mask from what’s underneath. The fool has been so kind, standing on top their pedestal with their gifts surrounding them.   
She wants them to stay there forever, so she checks the locks she placed on every door and window each night. Making sure the shadows can’t come in, and so the fool doesn’t leave.   
The queen becomes jealous of the few shadow servants she has whenever the fool speaks to them instead. She was never a harsh ruler, but she was never one to speak more than necessary. Her mask becomes intense at those moments, fake pleasantries thrown at the servants to make the fool happy. When the fool turns, her mask becomes closed off, but she never does anything to the shadows. She knows she’s the disgusting filth in this situation, no need to blame the shadows.  
The fool gets comfortable, accepting every gift thrown their way from the queen.   
They know the queen holds affection for them, even though she may not have spoken the words needed to show that affection. She practically becomes the fools servant, always looking for a way to please the fool. She never really notices anything besides the fools words of kindness, only wondering how she could be the recipient of such kindness. She knows she’s below dirt. She’s so happy to know such a lovely fool. How fantastic the sound of a hug is from the fools whispered promises, the queen wishes for the day when those promises will become true.  
Everything seems to be peaceful, a happy ending where the queen has someone to be with her.  
But nothing good ever truly stays. She should know that by now.  
The queen grasps tightly onto her crown, hands outstretched towards the fool in an offer. Her face is frozen, limbs trembling slightly as she looks on horrified as the shadows claw at her walls. The windows are all smashed in, the bars bent apart. Her once lovely curtains and carpets ruined to shreds as she watches. The fools form is overtaken by a slimy filth of darkness, their face contorted into an unnatural grin. Their fingers take the form of sharp knives, prickly thorns line their arms and chest. A whole is punched in the chest, leaking a putrid stench. Slime slithers down the fools body as they loom, body twisted around the pedestal the queen put them upon.  
The mask on her face cracks even more as the fool makes their way towards her, claws digging into her flesh. The queen just stares, body limp in submission. She won’t fight back.  
She never fights back.  
It hurts, it hurts so much. Tears stream down her face as she relents to the pain once again. It’s like a home she’s used to, a home she hates with every fiber of her being, yet can’t escape from. Such familiarity is all she knows as truth. Her mouth gapes open as screams shatter her mask. Her face barred to the beast in front of her, disgusting vulnerability twist her features into something the beast laughs at. Haunting jabs leave the beasts curled lips as they dig their claws deeper.  
With one final scream, the castle starts to crumble as her heart grows cold all over again.  
The beast lets go, a slab from the ceiling falling onto its form. Wheezing, the beast breaks free and runs as the castle rains down.   
Hours of deafening rumbling slowly settle down, a lone figure left in the ruins. The queen lifts her head, gaze empty as she looks around. Slowly, the rubble drifts up. Reforming pillars of grandeur, pristine marble flooring sparkling as if untouched. Walls grow thicker, glass covering every window and bars straightened perfectly. All the while, the queen stares unflinchingly.  
The queen stands as her castle moans in shuttering pain. She glances down, her mask staring back at her in all of its imperfections. Reaching down, she gently picks it up. Lightly trailing her fingers over the bumps and new cracks, she hunches over, trying to make herself as small as possible. Turning it around, the queen clasps her mask in place, posture straightening out slightly. Her crown is left on the floor as she makes her way back to her throne. The pedestal once owned by the fool grows to become another pillar, joining the 15 other pillars surrounding her throne.   
Seeing all, the queen sees the beast that escape deform. Steam rising from their form, the fools body becomes another shadow that roams her kingdom mindlessly.  
With a broken sigh, she turns her gaze away from them. The rabid beats of her kingdom quiver.   
Silently, the queen mouths to herself. Never again. No more, no one else will enter.  
Silently, the queen vows to close off her heart to love.  
Her eyes hold emptiness, her feelings of lonesomeness swallowing up her frame. Bowing her head, the queen sits unmoving upon her throne for an indiscernible amount of time. What feels like forever.  
A loud bang resounds around her, the pulse reaching her chest, making her head shoot up.  
Her gaze lights up at seeing a new figure looking back at the gates before the figure starts to run away from the shadows. The queens eye hold affection as she stands from her throne. With a flick of her hand, the gates to her castle opens for the approaching person.  
And so goes the story of the queen, the true fool, and her heart that holds all cruelty.


End file.
